Breaking the Multiverse
by KoalaOShiz
Summary: When someone began to steal dangerous materials in various laboratories, the Justice League send the Young Justice after that mysterious person who leave no traces on the crime scene, before something really bad happen. But a possible bomb is not the only threat, here, as kidnappings began to occurs in various cities.
1. Chapter 1: A single crack

"Why are we here anyway?" Wonder Girl asked to the other members of the Delta Team, who was currently waiting on a roof, carefully watching over the building in front of them. The mission had been brought upon them by Nightwing, as he had faith in them to arrest whoever was stealing unstable and non-tested chemicals and important machine parts from different lab, from Star Lab in Starling city to Kord Industries in Gotham, breaking in and out with relative ease. The fact there wasn't any clues on the robbery locations, no DNA, no tapes, was pointing a really talented thief, or maybe a group of multiple talents. Also, the stolen items themselves were weird: the chemicals where recently made, non-tested and without any real potential yet, with no estimated price yet, and even if they had been marketed, they wouldn't be high priced yet. For the mechanical parts, which were the real problem, although the chemicals could be pretty dangerous by themselves, they were really valuable items. Even Batman was slighty intrigued and maybe worried about what they could make together. One of the worst supposition was a bomb, who could easily strike a small country easily. And here they were, waiting for the thieves, on a chilly rooftop. Wonder Girl, Robin, Bumblebee and Static.

"I mean, it's Luthor's lab we are watching over, don't you think it's a little bit crazy? We should leave him being stolen, after all the trouble he and the Light gave us."

"Wonder Girl, please." shushed her Robin via the Comm. link "we aren't really doing this for him. Even if Luthor did shady things, we can't let the thieves steal him. As Batman told us at the briefing, there is a high possibility all the already stolen chemicals and techs combined would create a bomb whose power would be enough to wipe a small country."

"Why would someone create something that dangerous?" asked a confuse Static

"That, we don't know" responded Bumblebee "I thought the thieves were part of the Light, at first, but it just doesn't make sense for them to create something like that. The Light wants to control, not destroy everything."

"I agree with her, there is an obvious missing element. Plus, why would the Light steal itself?"

While he was questioning himself, a shadowy form moved in his peripheral vision, some rooftops further. A humanoid, slender silhouette who had gained enough momentum to jump toward the laboratory and land gracefully on it's roof.

"Our target just arrived" he announced, not unhappy to finally have some action this night. "Remember the plan, team. We apprehend them, make them tell us where they hide the stolen items and puts him into the good care of Metropolis' police. The League count on us on this mission"

While the others nodded, he used his grapple hook to follow the vague silhouette on the rooftop of Lex Luthor's laboratory, quickly followed by the three member who composed his team. Mimicking a splitting motion with his hands, he looked at them going their ways to find somewhere to enter the place. Bumblebee shrink and enter a vent, Wonder Girl and Static entered by an open window on the façade. Robin decided to follow directly the passageway of the thief, like Batman teaches him. Looking at the computer on his glove, he frowned seeing the cameras and movement sensors were already looping, sign someone already hacked it. As it was a private network, only someone from the inside could have done that so quickly. It could mean there was a mole already in place, maybe someone on the night team.

"Robin in place, currently following target. What is your status?"

"Bumblebee here, heading toward the generator. I don't even know why someone would steal a dangerous prototype like this one. It can only mean danger."

"Static and I are moving toward the guard room to reactivate the securities of the generator's section."

"Be careful, team. We don't know how many people this team contain, but they should at least be four. One hacker, the team leader, a scientist and perhaps someone with bulk. Be careful"

"Understood"

The hallways were silent and dark, no sign of passage or life, but he knew the silhouette he saw earlier would take that path, because there was less cameras and less security. Also, it was shorter. Robin followed the plan on his computer, avoiding as much as possible to enter the field of vision of any cameras, not knowing how long the loops where going to last. If the thieves were smart and ready, less than ten minutes, he calculated. If not, there would be a need to restart the loop soon, and if they does, he would then be able to pinpoint the hacker, and maybe send a virus on their computer. But a well prepared plan is powerless against fate, because as he takes another turns, he was suddenly facing the barrel of several firearms, carried by the Security Team of the building, all pointed on him.

Bumblebee was still in the vents when she heard the gunshots, both on her communicator and echoing somewhere two level above her, the sound rolling like thunder on the metal surface. Remembering the map, she guessed it couldn't be Wonder Girl or Static's position.

"Robin?"

"I have the situation under control. Continue the mission, I'll join you when I have taken care of them."

"Roger. Be careful"

Trusting him on that affair, she followed the vent to a high security zone, which doors were conceived to hold a powerful blast. Unfortunately, they were grand open and whoever entered didn't really cared if something went wrong inside, or any casualties. She entered with precautions, being careful around the diverse devices who where neatly stored on their spots. She goes until the end of the row where, surprisingly, the generator part was still in place. Which meant the thief was still here somewhere, in that room. Taking advantage of her wings, she take a vantage point, but saw no one, even behind the biggest machine.

"Robin? Do you copy?"

"Is there a problem, Bumblebee?" he asked breathlessly.

"I am above the generator parts, but I don't see our thief…

"Because you don't know where to look, little bug. And tell your friend I found his virus untertaining" a soft voice behind her cuted her in her sentence. She turned to look at the owner of the voice, but all she could see before losing consciousness was a face hidden by dark fabrics and night vision glasses.

"Take a good look, Miss Beecher. That's all you are going to see about me, be proud of you" and a hissing noise was all she could hear before everything went black.

"...bee? Bumblebee, do you hear me?"

She opened her eyes with difficulties. Her head was heavy and was pounding lighty, her mouth was like filled with cotton and a nausea was lurking around.

"Rob? What happened?"

"that's what I wanted to ask you. You where lying on the floor, and the generator have disappeared…"

"What? Oh no. I'm sorry, Robin. He was just here, the thief, but… I am sure he gazed me. There was a strange smell, and… uuugh, my head…"

"Take it easy, Bumblebee. You'll tell Batman what happen later, now we have to get out of here because the security reactivate itself and we have guards chasing after us."

That was kind of hard for her to have failed this mission, but he was right. The longer they were here, the more dangerous for them it gets. But she couldn't get out of her head that this thief was really well prepared. Too well, even. But what was bothering her the most was the fact her knew who she was. A strange and unpleasant shiver ran on her back.


	2. Chapter 2: looking through

As the Delta team was leaving the building, a slender silhouette was observing them, holding tightly a heavy looking object that was now in a robust bag. After several minutes of being absolutely immobile, which wasn't hard for the young thief all thanks to hard training, the unknown individual began to run from roof to roof, slightly slowed by the weight of the bag. After several minutes, the shadowy figure paused and pulled a strange device out of his bag and whispered something to it. Seconds after, and followed with a loud bang, the slender stranger disappeared. Only to reappear in a small apartment somewhere in Gotham. Putting the heavy bag on the floor and taking off the hood of the grey camouflage suit, a young boy with blond hairs and brown eyes sighed with relief. He was finally somewhere he could be safe.

Gently leaving the Mother Box he used on a table, who was silently and weakly flashing, he got the generator part out of his bag, to store it in the room next to his bedroom. His simple apartment was only composed of his bedroom, the living room and a small kitchen, a bathroom and an additional room which was technically part of his neighbor's place, but had doors leading to both places-which was weird but the old lady who lived there was really nice and she didn't care if he put strange things there as long as he was cleaning her apartment.

The chemicals and other mechanical parts he had stolen over the past few months where stored elsewhere, because he wasn't stupid enough to leave everything in one place, especially when it could easily explode in his face under the wrong circumstances.

He had to go slowly and carefully, but he was closer to the completion of his plan. Taking a paper he had attached to his little fridge, he crossed another line off his list. He needed three more things, and he was already planning his next affair. The last one would be the most dangerous, because he needed to go to a certain place, at a certain hour without getting caught by the diverse traps he know would be here, install his machine and pray it would work. Without a word or any sign of emotion on his face, he walked toward his bedroom and opened his wardrobe, not looking at his reflection in the mirror on the wooden door. Inside were stashed several shirts and sweats which he changed into, discarding his grey patch worked suit without even bothering to fold it, Too tired to care about things like that tonight. But as he was closing the wardrobe door, he caught a glimpse at the red and black suit inside, slightly hidden behind the other clothes, mocking him. Reminding him how he screwed up, even if he was trying to fix his mistake.

He couldn't even make eye contact with the yellow R embroidered on the upper part.

"You are the worst, Ross. Don't forget it. Even if you went back, what assurances do you have that everything will be the same? You screwed up, disobeyed and stole a Mother Box from an Apokoliptican psychopath. And then you managed to makes things even worse. Good job. Your reward? Being stuck on some retarded Earth, with no means to get home. What a great Robin you are." He spited at his image in the mirror. He looked horrible, too. His hair was getting longer, he had serious bags under his eyes due to lack of sleep and his skin had that sallow tone sick people had. Dead ones too, he recalled.

Before he could do anything else, the door behind him opened and he quickly closed the wardrobe while turning around, only to see an old woman wearing a yellow dressing gown and small glasses on her nose.

"Ross, you came home early" she said with a small voice.

"Yes, miss Swanson. Did I wake you up?"

"No, do not worry about that, young lad. At my age, you have difficulties to sleep and are awake for little things. In contrary to youngsters like yourself who need more than three hours of sleep per night."

"Well, actually, it's more like four hours but"

"Don't sass me, young lad" she tutted him gently "You are horrible to look at, and tomorrow, well this morning, you are still going to high school right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I can't believe someone as intelligent as you are making such idiotic mistakes. Now go to bed, and I don't want you to complain, am I making myself clear?"

"Crystal clear, miss Swanson"

"Oh, and before I forgot, my memory isn't as good as it was before, you should be careful when going out at night. There have been several kidnappings lately.

"I hear nothing about it on the radio" he confusedly retorted.

"Nobody really cares about a few homeless people or runaway children. For those who don't have to live here, it is just what happens when you live in the high risks districts of Gotham"

"Do you want me to investigate? If it's just human traffickers, I am sure I can bring you know who's attention on them. If it's something else, well, as you said, I am one of the few who cares, right?"

"It could be dangerous, Ross. Didn't you tell me you wished to stay under the radar until whatever you are planning is complete?"

"Well…" He wasn't sure if he could stay low anymore. Hell, he nearly got caught by that so called Young Justice, which he had learned about only because he hacked the Justice League's computer for Intel on his precious material's location. He had learned just a few things during the several minutes he was in their system, as he didn't wanted the presence of his mole to be spotted, and his ass to be handed to them on a silver platter. "You are someone I trust on keeping my secrets, on the reasons for my presence here, but… I don't think I could be passive any more if that means people I know I can protect without being helped by the Big Man here are in danger. I wasn't trained to do nothing. Also, I need to stay low profiled on 'borrowing' stuffs for some time, I kind of screwed up tonight's affair…" he shrugged and lowered his head in shame. He sure was tired, and his work had been affected by the lack of sleep. He hadn't been as stealthy and quick as he was under normal circumstances and he couldn't allow that. Also, he only had half his botlle of soporific left after putting the one called Bumblebee out. He had to remind himself to find more for ulterior use.

"Go to sleep, Ross. You look exhausted, and your hard work to go back home makes you more harm than being caught. You should take your time and not rush anything."

"Your advice is welcome, but I know what I am doing. And the faster I build my machine, the better it will be . I can't stand being here. I can't…"

He looked back at his wardrobe door, and memories flooded his mind and he absentmindedly brushed his hand on the hard wood.

"I can't stand not being Robin."


	3. Chapter 3: What is lurking behind

pHe woke up later that afternoon, after getting to bed and being pressed to take some rest by miss Swansorn. He could sworn having stood up to her for the sake of it, like a kid who wanted to finish the movie past his bedtime, but even if he was a real butthead, she had that strong motherly vibe who made him obey nonetheless. He had a good rest because his body wasn't as heavy as yesterday, his mind was clearer and his bones didn't hurted him like they did when he pushed himself too hard. Comfortably laying on the soft mattress, his head under the duvet, he couldn't help but think about his other bed. At ihome/i. Sure, the one he was currently in was comfy and warm, but the iother one/i was just more. Larger, fluffier, warmer. It even smelled differently, kinda like animals furr even if he was doing everything he could to not let any of his boss' pets in. Usually, he was awaken by shuffling and tiny barks, or worse, with a cat on his head, purring with delight and mischief. And he couldn't go back to sleep, after that. There were just too many things to do. Like his morning training, waking ihim/i up (funny that he was always the first to be awake, you could have guessed a former trained assassin wouldn't be one to sleep heavily). It was always funny to burst into his room and jump on the bed. And avoid getting punched, which happened the first time he did it. Then he had to prepare breakfast, doing more training and starting to clean the mansion. /p

p After the morning chores, he either goes to college or helped ihim/i, Damian Wayne, his mentor, his ancor point, his iBatman/i, at Wayne's entreprise, acting like his secretary, taking notes of his appointments and such. He, of course, didn't really needed Ross' help, but it was one of the things a secretary had to do, right? Plus Ross was payed for that, as he asked it to be. He didn't needed him to pay everything And, more importantly, when the sun sunk into the horizon and stars sparkled into the sky, he had to do his most important job. Being the sidekick of Batman. It was an helluva of a job, but it made him feel more, feel like what he was doing mattered. Clothed in red and black, cape floatting in the wind, battling against crooks and killers, and all the filth in Gotham's streets. There were also downsides to the job, but he couldn't care less. /p

p Sure, he got hurt, physically and mentally, he got so sore after patrol that sometimes he couldn't lift a finger, but this was nothing compared to the magic of being Robin. /p

p A Ping! caught his attention, sign that the Mother Box was talking to him. He could understand her to certain extent, but it was all abstract and weird and he wasn't really sure he understand all she 'said', but the result of their 'conversation' were deemed efficient and suffecient by both of them. Ross wasn't one to talk a lot, especially about himself or his wereabout, and the Mother Box wasn't human from the start so she didn't really knew what to think of the boy. They where both stranger to one another, linked accidentaly by some bound, temporarly, he wished. Not that being linked to a Mother Box hadn't their advantages, but he wasn't sure he was deemed worthy of it. After all, even with a link as weak at theirs, a slighty higher tolerance to pain, poisons and a still slighty higher regeneration of his wounds and so on. He didn't really knew the extent of her power over him. /p

p Maybe he didn't really understand her because their link was still young, fresh and kinda forced. Maybe it was because he stil was reluctante to allow anyone to control his body, his mind. Maybe when he'll get back to his own Earth, after increasing her power, the inhabitant of New Earth would be kind enough to let them stay together. Or maybe he would be condaimed as a thief among them, and not allowed to ever look at a Mother Box again. /p

pShuffling in his bed, he was wondering why was that Mother Box abandonned, locked away like a shameful thing, probably despiced because of some errors in her 'program'. When he had found her, on Earth, and not on New Earth, which was really strange and kinda unsettling, he hadn't thought his geste had big consequences. But only a few days after, and totally by accident, when they where after some idiot who wanted to explode the nuclear plant near Gotham, a discharge of energy from it was suddendly sucked by the Mother Box, who, over powered and totally not in control, opened a Boom Tube right under his feet, sending him in that stupid Earth he knew nothing about. /p

pHe then realised he was all alone./p

pHe couldn't go back to his own world-the Mother Box didn't had enough energy for that- and he couldn't possibly go back to Wayne manor. Nobody knew who he was. Nobody was looking after him, here. He wasn't supposed to be here./p

pIt wasn't like his life wasn't hard enough from the beginning./p

p  
iPing./i  
/p

pHe jerked up on his bed, eyes difficultly focusing, still half closed with sleep. /p

p"What did you say?" he asked, refrening a yawn, rubbing his tired eyes, hating the simple fact of leaving the comfort of the duvet./p

p  
iPing./i  
/p

p"I am… late? Late for what?"/p

p  
iPing./i  
/p

pHe ignored that last nonsence and got back under the warms, but his gaze fall on his alarm clock who haven't made a sound, shamelessly. 03h12pm. He was late for school, and not by a short straw. Cursing under his breath, he bolted out of bed, putting on him random clothes, took his bag contening his books and what he needed to learn and was trying to put his shoes on when the Mother Box reacted./p

p  
iPing./i  
/p

pHe turned his head toward where he have left her yesterday and frowned slighty./p

p"I am going to school, of course. What else do you wants me to do."/p

p  
i  
bPing./b  
/i  
/p

p"I still have two courses, I don't care about the morning ones, I can ask a classmate for his papers. Plus, it's not like I really need them, but I need to act like a responsible student."/p

p  
iPing./i  
/p

pHe knew the Mother Box had a point, but you can't live and work with the Bat without being stubborn yourself. That didn't meant he couldn't take a day or two without going to school, to rest a bit, because he really felt exhausted, even with all the sleep he got. Working himself that hard was really bad for his body, even with the strange help of the Mother Box. He sat down on the bed, taking his head on his hands. It was impossible for him not to notice how strained he was, and how weak he felt. Not so much sleep, for working nearly every nights on his machine, or stealing parts for it, or just roaming around the neighborhood either helping as much people he could without drawing attention to himself or just trying to learn his way around. His days where filled either with classes, faking a social life and helping miss Swanson. Speaking about her, he wondered why she didn't woke him up, seeing all late he was. Last time he overslept, she was here, dragging him by the ear and scolding him. For someone else, he would have become really upset and lashed out at them, but with her, it felt different; she didn't asked to much of him, was always here when he needed to borrow a thing, and acted quite motherly toward him. Ross founded that nice, to be honest. It was something he wished he felt with his own mother, back in his Earth, back in his time. But that was a wish who could never came true. /p

pHe decided to see by himself if miss Swanson had left some note for him in her appartment, because it wasn't her habit to leave him be, especially when she obviously saw how bad he was just early that morning. He opened the door leading to her appartment, and called her softly. Nobody responded to him, which couldbe both seen as a good and a bad sign. But he couldn't make any assumption so soon, so he goes to the kitchen, but there weren't any notes on the counter. Ok, so it was weird./p

p"Miss Swanson?" He called, even if he knew, somehow, that she would not respond to him. His search in the appartment gave him nothing substantial on where she could be, and he also was extremely relieved not seeing her lying on the floor, helpless while he was himself sleeping soundly. But nothing explained why she wasn't here, why there weren't anything to tell him where she went and for how long. The place was spottless after he cleaned it yesterday, there wasn't any dust, any bauble out of /  
There was a bad feeling growing in his /  
Something was going on. Something bad was happening./p


	4. Chapter 4: Not what it seems, more than

In that universe, in Earth-16 as it is most known in the vast multiverse, Tim Drake is Robin and hasn't planned to be someone else, nor than he thought would someone contradict that fact. Even if sometimes he doubted or thought of himself as someone who needed to act more than thinking, he wouldn't change his place for everything in the world. But sometimes, with the job came doubt and what happened yesterday was bugging him. Even after the debriefing and Batman's claiming there wasn't any mole in the Team, he had the impression something was escaping his grasp.  
That is why he was currently in an ice cream parlor with Dick Grayson, the Robin before him, currently Nightwing and working out of the Team, or the League after what happened with Wally West, who 'ceased' only five months ago. He hasn't taken any decision to go on patrol with any one of his friends, staying mostly in Blüdhaven, like some kind of empty shell. Tim hoped he would. It was nice to have him here, in Gotham, even if it was just to talk, and eat ice cream.  
The parlor, at this hour, was mostly empty, if it weren't for the waitress, an old woman at the counter, and a young blond man behind Dick, turning his back to him. Tim had to talk with a low voice, but considering the size of the cup of the boy, there was a slim chance he wasn't paying enough attention to follow their topic of conversation.  
"I swear, that was what Karen told us. It wasn't enough for that thief to give me a false lead in the lab, but now he knows who we are?"  
"I agree with you, there is something shady going on" Dick responded, himself eating an ice cream of good size, pointing his spoon toward the younger boy "does he says something, afterwards?"  
"Not really. He told us not to think about that, right now, and to go home. That he will take care of it. That's why I called you, because I need more than that, I need to know who this thief is and to arrest him for good before he do something irreversible"  
Before him, the blond boy shifted and took a phone out of his pocket, looked at it and just left it on the table, returning to his enormous ice cream. It looked a bit like a burn phone, but maybe he was wrong because nobody who needed a burn phone would left it in plain view, most of all in a public place like where they were. His gaze came back to Dick, and he was on the verge of saying something when the parlor door opened violently and an angry looking man, bigger than Dick, entered the place and walked toward them with a slow and visibly infuriated pace. Both heroes shifted on their chair, in case they had to do something against that man, but he doesn't even looked at them, passing near their table to the one after theirs, slamming a fist on it. The ice cream cup trembled, but the young boy seemed unimpressed.  
"Where is she?" The tall man growled.  
"Hi Ricky," Responded the boy, still eating from his cup as if there weren't a 200 pound mountain of a man ready to tear him apart. "How are you? Nice weather outside, isn't it?"  
"Stop your bullshit right here, Aberfort. Where is Linda?! Ezekiel saw her with you yesterday, and she hasn't come back home since."  
"Too bad for you, but I have no clue where she is, sorry."  
With a menacing growl, the man called Ricky flipped the table, sending ice cream and phone flying to the ground, before catching the slimmer boy by the collar, lifting him enough for his feet not to touch the white tiles.  
"You tell me where she is before I break your neck!"  
"You can try, Ricky. Do it, try breaking my tiny neck in your big hands in front of four witnesses. Don't you have enough problems already? You seriously want to add murder to the list?"

The blond man's voice was soft, yet there was something behind it who gave Tim chills. There was also the way the boy was supporting himself on the bigger man's grips, with only one of his hands on the other's wrist, as if he could get out off his hold easily. Near him, Dick rose on his feet and walked toward both of them, hands in sight, to show he wasn't a threat. And Tim could sworn he saw, for a brief moment, a strange, hurtfull expression on the blond boy's face before Dick ask the man seemingly called Ricky to put the other down, before disappearing as fast as it came. Visibly, starting a fight in an Ice Cream Parlour wasn't in the agenda of the bulkier man's agenda for that evening, but he didn't let the small blond man-no, boy, he couldn't be older than he was- down without shaking him by the collar one last time and throwing him slightly away from himself as if he'd touched some filthy thing.

"We're not done here, Aberfort"

"I'm sure we aren't, Ricky. I'm sorry she disappeared, though. But maybe we could talk about that elsewhere. Without non-concerned people around. This is your first AND last warning here, understand?"

The tall and bulky man gritted his teeth but made an acknowledgement noise before storming out of the parlour, watching behind him one or two time, as if he was afraid the blond boy would jump at him and hurt him. It seemed ridiculous, but in Gotham, it would be a bad thing to underestimate someone, as most of the really dangerous persons where the most fragile looking ones. But he thought this time, it was ridiculous. That blond boy was literally 9 feet smaller, and clearly 60 pounds lighter, and even with the bested will in the world, 'Ricky' would have the upper hand. With this thought in mind, Tim got on his feet too, approaching Dick and the boy called Aberfort.

"Are you alright?" He asked, visibly concerned

"I'm fine" he replied with a falsely cheerful voice. The tone reminded him of how he would told Alfred his injuries weren't as bad as it looked, but after all, if the boy had a habit of being pushed around by bigger men, something like this wouldn't be that important to him.

"I'm more sad about my ice cream, though" he added, looking at the mess on the floor with pathetic eyes "sorry about that, Marzia, I will pay for it" he said for the waitress behind her counter, who was taking a mop and a bucket of water, shaking her head as if saying it was nothing.

"Are you sure you will be ok?" Dick asked, crossing his arms and looking at the door Ricky closed as violently as he had opened it, slighty frowning, as if he wanted for the man to come back so that he would pay for the damages.

"Yes. It's my fault if he reacted like that. I should have knew not to act like a first class smartass. And even more if Linda have disappeared. He is really protective of his sister, you see, and she never ever left him without a word."  
Tim looked at him as he chewed on his lips. He wasn't really sure what to do next, because even if he wasn't really happy to let the boy go, and the fact he actually threatened someone taller and bulkier-and who was seemingly not really in good terms with the police- he felt a little bad about letting him deal with it all by himself. He sure had balls, but it wasn't something who gave one a lot of protection.

"If you'll excuse me" the blond boy, Aberfort, says "I am going out of here, just in case he came back with the envy to punch me."

""Ah, sure" he responded with a slight hesitation. It was like the youngster have read into his mind and adapted his comportment to be seen as more fragile than he looked, as if he wanted people not to look at him, which could be a good thing if he really did lived in the dangerous neighbourood of Gotham.

"That's all you are going to see about me for the next few days, I think. Take a good look and be pround, because I will be as sneaky as a mouse" he joked before taking his phone on the ground, paying the waitress, whose name was Marzia and lived the place in a too well controlled pace.

And he didn't really knew why but, at this instant, Timothy Drake, aka Robin, had the impression he had been played all along, and that his impression was comfirmed, even more when Dick looked at him, making nearly the same face as he did.

Because that boy, whoever he was, had quoted nearly word for words the sentences Bumblebee have heard from the thief at Luthor's lab.

and it couldn't be a coincidence.


	5. Chapter 5: a threat can hide an other

The night came swiftly, covering Gotham with darkness and the beginning of all the worst activity of the city. Murders, rapes, kidnapping, illegal trafficking and so on. It was also the time for the Batman to take care of it, the moment where muggers and murders were wary of any little signs indicating his presence.

But this night they could be in a relative peace, because Batman was busy with something else. He and Robin were jumping from rooftop to rooftop near Crime Alley, as the young boy had a lead concerning the blond guy he and Nightwing saw in the ice cream parlor. He had asked several people, and even if most of them denied knowing the strange boy, he knew enough of physical language to know they were lying and thus shared it with Bruce when he came back to the Cave. Batman then decided to take a look for himself.

If it wasn't for the slip he did earlier that day, neither of them would have known or even guessed his base of operation was so close to them. Batman could only be slightly impressed by that. Not everybody could steal so many things, not being caught nor seen and avoid the greatest detective in his own city. Or, maybe, it was all a trick and he was mocking them.

While in his thoughts, he spotted something from the corner of his eye and stopped moving on the rooftop he currently was on, sensing more than seeing Robin doing the same only seconds after him, both totally silent.

It was two men, armed with rifles and clothed somewhat warmly. They seemed to be patrolling, their posture tense and nervous. They also were talking, but from where he was, Batman couldn't hear them. Gesturing Tim not to move from where he was kneeling, Bruce made the decision to go closer to the two men, like a shadow among the others. He had not been seen nor heard, and these two suspicious men were still talking.

"...not seen any of them since Sunday." whispered the one at the right. He had brown hairs in a bun, and was taller than his companion and seemed bulkier.

"That's when he decided for us to have a curfew, right?" the other asked. His red hair where under a cap and, even if he was slimmer than the other one, was handling the riffle better, and seemed to know how to use it properly. Perhaps due to some sort of military training.

"Yeah. He was pretty pissed we didn't do what he asked us too"

"He always looks pissed, if you want my opinion" retorted the red haired man.

"You should have seen him when he came back at the shelter, then. Seemed like Ricky was freaking out and called him out in front of other people, in public"

"Ah yeah, I heard. His sister has disappeared, right? Poor man."

"He threatened him, but I think he was pretty shocked by it too. The old Swanson and Linda where the closest to him since he came here. Seems he needs a lot of sleep too. I don't understand why he hasn't collapsed because of exhaustion. He stays up all night, doing god knows what and do the perfect little student act at the college in the morning."

"Doesn't sound healthy"

"Doesn't sounds like your problem, Matthew" a new voice said, making the two men jump and point their riffle in its direction. Batman scowled and approached a little, still careful not to be seen. The voice came from a silhouette who seemed to be made of shadows, and wouldn't be seen if it wasn't moving. "I didn't give you those riffles to chit-chat with, but to monitor the area." The silhouette, slim and small, fitting Robin's description, approached the two men and stopped before them, arm crossed with what looked like a sword on his back. "Report?"

"Nothing abnormal, 'sir'." sassed the taller one, which made the young man before them, hood on his head and mask on his face, glare menacingly at him. The tall man shrugged a bit, as if it wasn't the first time he received said look."But we have seen four kids earlier and Josh and I told them to either go home or go to your shelter for the night."

"Good. I really hope they'll listen to you two. I don't want any more people disappearing every night. Thirty-four is enough and the police are becoming suspicious about it. Anymore, and Batman will hear about it, and I don't want him around."

"Why not" asked Josh. "He could help us, and he..."

"NO!" Shouted the young boy. The two men flinched and looked at each other, a little bit warily. "I... we don't need him" he continued with a softer voice "I already told you my reasons for not involving him..." he glanced at them behind the lenses of his mask. "... Yet."

He looked kind of defeated by that statement but didn't back off. Uneasily shifting on his feet, he looked around and specifically at the rooftops. Batman felt satisfied by his decision of going down the dark alleyway.

The smaller man, Matthew, cleared his throat and asked. "Why are you here, anyway?"

"Oh, that's simple" he shifted a bit and pointed at something on the wall. "I am redirecting the camera feeds directly to the shelter. Two guys back there are making a program to spot any weird thing going on in Crime Alley first, then on the other streets, maybe into the Narrows too.".

"Will we be needed, after you make that..." he waved his hand around

"Oracle Sight program? Hmm. I don't know. Haven't thought about it yet. Probably? But not in the Narrows. Don't want any of you down there."

Batman felt a bit uneasy. If the disappearances were bad enough to bring a little peace and made the people help each other like that in Crime Alley, it has to be something important.

"Alright, now, go continue patrolling, I am not giving you those expensive shits for nothing" he ordered, looking somewhat amused by the two grown men

"Right away, Boss" said the smaller one. "Don't go to bed too late"

"Blablabla. Just go"

And they did, while laughing lightly. The boy shook his head and climbed a fire escape, then crouched on a windowsill without problem, and under impressive speed, he connected a small device to the little camera. Batman was going to have a conversation with him when his communicator went off.

"Batman, I am going to follow these men, to see what is really going on. They seem sloppy enough for me to have no problems."

The boy some windows above him froze and tensed, watching the rooftops and spotting the silent silhouette of Robin. He cursed under his breath and reached for his sword, watching around, searching for any suspicious movement. Batman remained completely still, and soon, the boy put his device back in his pocket and jumped on the fire escape again, and entered the building through a broken window. Batman quickly followed him, but quickly lost him. Whoever this kid was, he was fast, intelligent and well trained. He didn't leave any traces of his presence and his sword didn't look to be for decoration.

He climbed on a roof, and activated his communicator.

"Robin, report"

"I found the shelter. It's boarded up and the work looks pretty solid. I spotted some guards, too. Should I do something?"

"No. Our radio link had been tampered. I want you to go back to the Cave; I am going to investigate further." Sensing the hesitation of the boy, he added:

"Now, Robin." And he ended the conversation.

Robin would say this didn't occur often, and that he didn't see this as a way to make him feel like he wasn't able to take care of himself, but it would be a lie. He disliked it when Batman didn't allow him chances to prove he was good enough not to be watched over all the time, disliked when they were looking at him as if he would put a Jason Todd move on them, whatever that meant. He wasn't reckless, he wasn't impatient, and he planned four moves ahead and didn't let his emotions decide for him. He could have handled some guards, or could have found a way inside the shelter without being seen to check out what was really going on.

The fact their comm. link had been tampered with was surprising, and clearly shows that the boy had some serious means and the technology necessary to keep an eye on them, which was really creepy. It was dangerous to have someone like this on the loose.

Deep in thought, he would have missed the silhouette three roofs ahead if it wasn't for the fact he was slowing down to locate the rarely used zeta tube installed in Crime Alley as a back-up plan, or as an emergency travel route.

Slim and wearing a ninja like suit in a patchwork of grey, the silhouette was graceful, fast and definitely well trained; he was obviously fleeing Batman, even if Robin couldn't see him following behind. His moves felt familiar to the black haired boy. Where did he see them before? He didn't know yet, but he would definitely find out the answer. He decided to follow him, disobeying Batman's orders, but he couldn't let that chance slip from his hands. He was going to find the boy's hideout, arrest him and ask him questions, then hand him over to Batman, even if it means he was going to be scolded for disobeying the batman's strict orders.. Also, as the boy moved it became apparent His moves were too precise and efficient to be simply from a normal person-and with their communications cutoff.

He was on his own this time.


	6. Chapter 6: Bring on the conflict

Batman had been here. He only saw Robin, though, but it was enough for Ross to makes him drop everything he was doing and flee. Oh, he could play brave in front of people, but some few people like Batman could make his resolve quiver and fill him with doubts. But maybe he was over-exagerating, maybe they didn't saw him. After all, this Robin was talking about Josh and Matthew, not him, and he was confident enough in himself to know he couldn't have been spotted that easily.

But how could he listen to their communications in the first place? Easy, he was using the same tech as they were, only a bit more advanced, and with Batman rarely changing his private canal, even in his time, mostly due to the lot of Wayne tech satellites orbiting around the Earth and providing him a nearly impossible to hack way of communication. Also, if he had correctly did his "homework" here, the Justice League was using it too, making Ross' survey a little bit easier.

What was making him slightly angry this night was the fact his own communicator had been broken several weeks ago in a fight, and only could receive the dynamic duo's discussion in a small perimeter. He also lacked of tech to repair it correctly which was one big downside. The fact he couldn't really go and take tools to repair it was also a tad infuriating.

He arrived near his apartment in no times, and there were nobody in the streets below, which was a relief. slowing a little bit while climbing down the facade, he let his thoughts wander a bit. The kidnappings have begin a month prior, always happening fast, without witnesses, without any clues. He had searched in the human traffic rings after the tenth disappearance, a boy named Ben, a runaway whose bright intelligence had somewhat won his heart, but he found nothing. Yet. He had skills, he was smart, and he was principally teached by Batman, for all sake. He should be able to find something, anything. And now miss Swanson had vanished too, and it was more than he could accept.

His patience had worn thin, as his sleep schedule was pushed further in the near future, and the lack of rest made him reckless and less perceptive of his surroundings. No wonder the Robin of this Earth had been able to sneak so close without Ross being alarmed, he was really close to collapse on the floor. What was sure, nonethelessly, was that Batman wasn't here, or didn't saw him, which was a huge relief, all things considered. He couldn't afford to meet him because he would either don't believe him and lock him away due to his extra scholar activities, or believe him and still lock him because of the same reason, with the additions of all the patronizing he couldn't bear to hear. Or the pity. Which could be worse, he didn't wanted to know.

Attaining his apartment floor, he climbed into it by the window, who was always open when he was out and stepped into the empty room between the two apartments to his own, discarding his mask and his hood, his breathing shaking a bit. Sure, with his training and bad habits, he could stay awake for long periods of time, but even him had limits. And 72h non stop, with only little naps had made him reach them. He was exhausted. Damn, if he concentrated enough, he could probably feel colours. And his damn stubbornness made him work even harder.

Ping!

His head turned to where his Mother Box was, still on her console.

"No clues, I'm afraid. Plus, I think who you know have spotted the area, and by that, us. We have to move."

Ping!

"I don't know where yet! Far away, I guess?"

Ping!

"No. Even if I don't want to stay near Batman, I don't want to be in the same city as a kryptonian."

Ping!

Ross rolled his eyes and goes to his bedroom to find his bag. When he began to put his divers tools, weapons and pieces of clothing in it, the Mother Box pinged him alarmingly, and he ran toward her, hand still clenching his backpack. He froze in the doorway.

In front of him, with the Mother Box in hand (that was why she sounded afraid and displeased) was Robin. Timothy Drake. Future Red Robin, hopefully. He was now looking at him, with Ithat/I expression plastered on his face, his stance clearly defensive.

"I guess it explains how you could come and leave so quickly."

The blond boy responded nothing, he just squinted his eyes, bending a little on his knees. He wondered if he could launch an attack and get away. Calculating his chances, he was kinda displeased by the results. 35% for him wasn't a good thing, especially in his current state.

"You have the option to follow me without resistance, but I guess you will try to fight anyway, am I right?"

Do not give any clues, do not react. Showing him how weak he was would be a really bad thing, and assess his inferiority. Plus, even if his bô wasn't at the ready yet, Tim had been taught by Lady Shiva, so he was a dangerous opponent. But he relied more on his analytics than anything, so maybe if Ross made him lose his nerves, the probabilities would sway in his favor.

"Look at that" he began with a low and confident voice, with a hint of humour "the baby bird grants me by his presence. How lucky I am. So, not hiding under Batdad's cape, tonight?"

Now, it was his turn to squint and make a face, but it wasn't enough yet. It wasn't irritations he wanted, but full blown pissed off. And he was good to attain that result.

"Is he here? Don't tell me it's your probation night, birdy bird. Incapable of doing anything by yourself?"

"Put your hands above your head where I can see them, and throw the bag at my feet."

"Whoa, hey. You are exigent. You seriously don't expect me to do both at once?"

"Throw the bag" he snarled, clenching his teeth.

"Sheesh, alright, you are the boss, here."

He did as he was told, with a slight reluctance. His own Robin suit was inside, buried under other clothes, tools, spare batarangs he found here and there (seriously, there was three full boxes of them at the nearest police station, one missing wouldn't bother the police officers) and a block note full of doodles and scribbles made in his own Earth. Tim kneeled close to the bag, drawing him near him, but still keeping his eyes on the blond boy, didn't allowing him to do anything, which was frustrating.

"Can I ask you something, 'officer'?"

It was easy for him to spot the little frown under the domino mask as Robin rose his head more toward him.

"What is it like to wear a dead boy's uniform?"

That was necessary. Hurting Tim was necessary. Twisting the knife in the wound, shocking him by a knowledge he shouldn't be aware of that fact, all was part of a plan. The shocked expression of his not mentor version of the boy made his guts churn a bit, but he couldn't let himself be emotional right now.

"How do you-"

Didn't allowing him to finish his phrase, or even get on his feet, Ross threw batarangs he had hidden in his sleeves right to him and, as he withdrew one with his bô, the curved trajectory of the second knocked the Mother Box off his hand. She, of course, emitted a ping! full of reproaches before landing with a dull clang on the floor. And before Tim could recover of his surprise, he launched himself toward him, kicking him on the chest-what a satisfying thund when he landed on the floor- grabbing his bag before sliding swiftly to take the Mother Box off the floor and make his exit toward the window. He didn't counted on the bô to swip the non existent grass under his feet, and he feel himself falling. He had to let go of his bag again to execute a perfect reception, rolling on his back and quickly swifting to his feet, never once turning his back to Robin for more than a few seconds. He was carefull not to underestimate him, due to his training and now kind of ticked off mood.

"How did you learn about that?" he growled at the blond boy

"ta-ta-ta. This isn't about him, right now. What we have here belong just to both of us, little bird." he retorted sarcastically. "You want so much to ruin the moment? I'm hurt"

That damn mouth of his will be his cause of death, he was absolutely sure about that. But at this moment, it was what could possibly help him escape the black haired boy in front of him, especially if Batman wasn't roaming around, casting his dark shadow over their fight. This made him quite relieved, because it meant it wasn't time for a little confrontation between the two of them. Yet.


End file.
